


Blackbird

by orphan_account



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira is definitely a musician I'm pretty sure, Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, as sure as he is pretty, so it isn't anything special, this is just me writing whatever to figure out what ao3 is like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25552495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Akira looked forward to the day he would find a mark on his body, something that would represent both him and his soulmate.that is till one summer night after he fell asleep and soon awoke screaming.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	Blackbird

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting on ao3 so be kind to me guys still figuring things out (kinda the point of this whole fic actually), it is nice to meet you all I'm Ghost  
> BTW I'm a chronic Shuake shipper and fully believe Akechi is the cannon love interest.
> 
> Edit: I went back through and did some minor editing to filter out any typos I could find and make some things flow a little better ect.

He had been barely seven when he got his soulmark. They said it would appear after a significant event to you or your soulmate happened, a reward really. His mother described receiving hers like feeling a butterfly brush it’s wings on her skin, for his father like a breath of wind, soft and gentle almost missed it entirely. He used to love tracing the outline of their marks when he was younger, the vivid blue and purple matching feathers on their wrists.

  
His family was odd like that, everyone in the direct line had bird related soulmarks. Dark purple was a common color as well, signifying royalty. The dark blue for his parents represented the deep trust they felt for one another. He would lay awake many nights wondering what his mark would look like, what type of bird or would it be something like his parents a feather or maybe a footprint or a wing, what color? He had spent afternoons looking through the meaning of the different colors, the good and the bad.

  
Maybe a song bird? He loved to sing so a song bird would be most likely. Would it just be a bird and nothing else or would it be like his great grandparents with a bird and a flower or two? If it was he’d have to study flowers too so he would know what it would mean.

  
There was nothing he wanted more for the longest time than to meet the one who matched his soul. Who would love him no matter his flaws and mistakes, who would be with him till the very end. And all the other romanticized descriptions his family gave him every time he asked what a soulmate was. Even though he hadn’t gotten it yet he loved his soulmark, and by extension his soulmate.

  
That is till one cold winter night when he was sleeping in his bed.

  
He awoke screaming clutching his head. His parents had rushed to his side immediately but he didn't recognize they were even there, they tried to figure out was wrong but no matter how hard they tried he would not remove his hands from his forehead, thrashing and kicking when they tried to pry them away. He had been rushed to the hospital. By the time he made it his screaming had stopped, his throat unable to pass another sound through it beyond quiet whimpers, he sobbed silently as the pain remained, no painkillers or medication helped sooth him, the pain wasn't physical but as a seven year old he didn't understand that. No one knew what was wrong with him.

  
Not till the morning when the grieving pain finally faded enough for him to rest, he passed out the moment his head rested on the hospital bed pillow. They told him the moment his consciousness faded a mark formed on his forehead. A crow with its wings extending up into his hairline, three roses beneath it.

  
The mark was pitch black, with five Russian violet dots making the Corvus constellation within it.

  
He had begged his family for a way to make it go away. Because he knew, all his studying and preparation and time looking through books about symbolism, he knew. Every time he looked at his mark he knew. Every time someone mentioned their own soulmate he felt the ghost of the pain, every time he traced his fingers over his parents marks his own would ache with a deep grieving pain.

  
His soulmate was gone. The mark their parting gift.

Sometimes he'd lay awake at night wondering, maybe had he got his mark sooner, earned it he might of had a chance to find them before. But they were gone, and they weren’t coming back.

  
Akira Kurusu’s soulmate died when he was barely seven years old. Leaving him with permanent damage to his vocal cords and a newfound hatred for soulmates.

* * *

“I can’t believe you two were soulmates all this time and neither of you realized, worse, you guys actually knew each other before all this-” Futaba gestured to all of Akira’s attic bedroom.

  
Ann and Ryuji both chuckled awkwardly, Akira watched the two in calm silence. He hated jealousy; it was a sharp unmistakable stake stuck in between the envious and the envied. He hated it even more when the one he was jealous of were his friends and he should be happy for them.

  
He watched with a growing headache as Yusuke examined the mark on Ryuji’s shoulder, he couldn’t see it from here but he wasn’t interested. He pretended not to notice the curious looks Futaba gave him, just like all the times he pretended not to get Ryuji’s hint to let him see his mark, or Yusuke’s thin veiled request to sketch all of their soulmarks. Futaba had gotten very red when the artist asked to see her’s, Akira guessed why as soon he saw her fidget. He didn’t ask though.

  
Soulmates were just a source of pain and weren’t any guarantee all your relationship problems will be solved just because you have one. His parents were proof of it to him if not his own mark. In the years after that fateful night his parents kept getting into fights, their trust in each other shattered when his father began to suspect his mother of cheating, it all went downhill from there.

  
So when Ryuji looked at him with a smile, ecstatic to have his soulmate by his side Akira plastered on a smile, hiding the pained gleam in his eyes behind his glasses and pretended he was fine.

  
“I glad you’re happy” he signed, the movements of his hands noticeably slowly, deliberately steady, when he dropped them to his sides he cringed on the inside, he hated how he felt about this. He hated his soulmark for bringing him such dark emotions directed towards his best friends.

  
He hated how much hatred he felt.

* * *

Akechi had finally just black mailed their group. He figured it was about time, and in all honesty he wasn’t very upset. It meant more time with his rival, and in an odd way, friend.

  
He didn’t really have a word for their relationship, he saw them as rivals but it didn’t cover it all. He wanted to think they were friends… friends who go on dates and almost kissed once… he’s starting to see where the problem is coming from.  
And then _this_ happened, then he knew he made a mistake in judgement a long time ago.

  
“Based on how we look… then how about Karasu?” Akechi offered. They were inside the metaverse, in Sae Nijimia’s palace, or outside of it technically.

  
“What is yours all black or something?” Ryuji questioned, if Akira were honest he couldn’t see Akechi ever wearing black. Though he doubted it'd be a bad look for the honey haired boy standing in the center of the gathered group.

  
“The opposite actually,” the detective corrected with a smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Akira raised an eyebrow but didn’t give his two cents.

  
“It’ll be the only one that’s Japanese…” Futaba murmured.

  
“Oh! I know how about crow?” It was like a lightning strike straight to his head, but he didn’t react, didn’t even move. Crow? If it were anyone else he mightn’t even thought twice about it, but Akechi?

  
It was all confirmed when Akechi murmured barely loud enough for him to make out, “fits better than you know.” It lasted for only a second but their eyes met briefly and Akira felt ready to vomit.

  
“You can use something else if you want,” he signed stiffly, not trusting his voice to not crack, at least with hand movement no one could hear his internal struggle.

  
“No, I like it, I’m crow,” Akechi said with a faint knowing smile. Akira was left feeling seven again, desperate, tired, and sore looking up the meaning of black roses.

* * *

Even though he had hated everything to do with his soulmate, even though he couldn’t stomach the idea of being with his, after everything the pain the reminders the loss of his voice, and his ability to sing.

  
He still died inside when Futaba said those words, those words that are going to haunt him for the rest of his life.  
“I- his signal is gone.” she choked out, he didn’t need to turn around to know they were all staring at him, they knew he cared for Akechi but not even he knew by how much till he lost him.

"not again... please no," he choked out his voice raspy from lack of use and crying.

* * *

He never showed the Phantom Thieves or anyone else his soulmark but he stopped hating it and as he traveled with his friends back to his hometown he thought, as he hummed along to the radio, maybe Akechi didn’t hate him either.


End file.
